Archive for May, 2007


10 poetry quotes that reflect my concept of poetry and the writing of it:

How can we tell the dancer from the dance?
~William Butler Yeats

Poetry comes with anger, hunger and dismay; it does not often visit groups of citizens sitting down to be literary together, and would appall them if it did. ~Christopher Morley, John Mistletoe

Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. ~Leonard Cohen

A poet is an unhappy being whose heart is torn by secret sufferings, but whose lips are so strangely formed that when the sighs and the cries escape them, they sound like beautiful music… and then people crowd about the poet and say to him: “Sing for us soon again;” that is as much as to say, “May new sufferings torment your soul.” ~Soren Kierkegaard

Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things. ~T.S. Eliot, Tradition and the Individual Talent, 1919

Everything in creation has its appointed painter or poet and remains in bondage like the princess in the fairy tale ’til its appropriate liberator comes to set it free.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

The worst fate of a poet is to be admired without being understood.
~Jean Cocteau, Le Rappel รก l’ordre, 1926

It is the job of poetry to clean up our word-clogged reality by creating silences around things. ~Stephen Mallarme

To be a poet is a condition, not a profession.
~Robert Frost

Poetry is man’s rebellion against being what he is.
~James Branch Cabell

I tag Jason AND Brandy, Sarah, Nicole


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Music and a Movie

Wow- Amy King posted to her blog one of the coolest videos and songs I’ve heard in a while: a band called The Knife, with their song Pass This On:

The guy lip-syncing is one of the hottest cross-dressers I’ve ever seen. I squirmed in my seat for the first minute because the tension here was so taut – but breathed a sigh of relief when cutie-patootie started dancing. I’d love to dance to this song at a club.

Speaking of clubs, I haven’t been to a club in so long I think my legs might wither away.

Someone please tell me why it took me so long to see Little Miss Sunshine? I don’t think my heart has ever simultaneously broken and warmed so hard. The casting was perfect.

I normally don’t like posting “favorite” listings of songs and movies because, for me, these things never exist in a fixed state. But, I’m going to jump on the five song bandwagon and list five favorite songs at the time being:

Wolf Like Me – T.V. on the Radio
Charge me your day rate
I’ll turn you out in kind
when the moon is round and full
gonna teach you tricks that’ll blow your
mongrel mind
baby doll I recognize
you’re a hideous thing inside
if ever there were a lucky kind it’s
you, you, you, you

No Cars Go – Arcade Fire
Between the click of the light
and the start of the dream

Dramamine – Modest Mouse
we kiss on the mouth but still cough down our sleeves

Hands Away – Interpol
Home spun desperation’s knowing
Inside your cover’s always blown

and the song that can make me smile every single time:

It Was A Good Day – Ice Cube
Today was like one of those fly dreams
Didn’t even see a berry flashing those high beams
No helicopter looking for a murder
Two in the morning got the Fatburger
Even saw the lights of the Goodyear Blimp
And it read “Ice Cube’s A Pimp”

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I have brought back the private blog, though under a different blog addy. If you are interested in reading the “other” blog, please email me at rachelmallino@gmail.com with your email addy and I will add you to the list of allowed readers.

In case you aren’t familiar with my “other” blog, it is a place for me to talk more personally.

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good grief!!

I promise (jenni and paul), no Soprano gossip for a few days (as I chew my fingernails off).

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I really can’t contain the elation I feel from hearing of Jerry Falwell’s death. If there really is a heaven and hell, I hope God (a feminist, of course) is laughing and pointing as Falwell sweeps the ashes from Hell’s fire, and I hope the Devil is a gay man who sticks it to Falwell on a daily basis, slaps his ass, and calls Falwell his little bitch.

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to get into Rattle? Rejected, yet again. I always send them my best work and they are always the first to get them. I think this is the fourth or fifth time they’ve rejected my work. Maybe I should just give up on them but they are like the hot guy that has never once glanced my way and yet I’m determined to get him to ask me out.

Christopher is dead. Tony has no redeeming qualities left. Phil reminds me of a hot-dog and I’m not sure why. AJ should never, ever, speak philosophically. I think Pauly, out of pure frustration, is going to end up popping Tony. Peyote, anyone?

Mother’s Day was great – Reef flip-flops, 2 new tank-tops, gardening gloves for lina and me, and a black forest cake. Oooo yeah, and a 45 minute back massage/scalp scratch from the hubby. Thank you, Hallmark, for creating this glorious day.

I thought I actually had something important to say – whatever that was is escaping me at the moment.

Mitt Romney scares me. I’m heavily contemplating not voting in 08.

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